Without IT
by BadMoonlight
Summary: Chapter 1! Pennywise makes his appearance, Bill needs to tell the group something, and Stan's feelings for Beverly turn into the worst nightmare imaginable!


Without IT  
by BadMoonlight  
  
  
(Okay, this is sort of an Alternate Universe fic for Stephen King's IT. What if Pennywise's wrath occurred just a little bit later? What if Georgie was still alive, the kids in Derry lived semi-normal lives, and didn't even experience IT until their teenage years?)  
  
  
  
  
  
7:37 P.M., West Broadway.  
  
  
Eleven-year-old Tara Robinson turned her head sharply at the noise behind her   
  
in the driveway. It was strange, kind of like a scraping noise.... Fingernails on a   
  
chalkboard. She shrugged, pulled her thin blonde hair up into a ponytail, and   
  
continued up the driveway into her house. Halfway down the block she could hear   
  
Greta Bowie and Sally Mueller giggling loudly with their respective gang member   
  
boyfriends, and rolled her eyes. If I ever grow up to be like that, I'm gonna kill   
  
myself.  
  
  
"Tar-aaaaaaa....."  
  
  
She stopped cold, and turned around again. "Yes? Hello?" There was nothing   
  
behind her but the newly paved streets and freshly trimmed grass. It was all too   
  
perfect... It made her feel like she was in Village Of The Damned, or something. If   
  
Tara had been living a couple years later into the century, she would have realized it   
  
was exactly like The Stepford Wives.  
  
  
"Taaar-aaaaaaaaa......."  
  
  
She squinted wildly up and down the street looking for something, anything.   
  
But all that she saw were the leaves blowing around and a large crack in the middle of   
  
the street by the sewer lid she hadn't noticed before. Tara grinned at this. Alas, so   
  
there is a flaw in the world of perfection that is West Broadway! Her smile faded as   
  
she realized the crack was continuing to break open the street, wild zigzag patterns   
  
forming randomly on the concrete. An earthquake? But how--  
  
  
All of Tara's rational thoughts flew from her mind as she watched the cracks   
  
eventually turn into a hole, and something green poked out from it. She wanted to   
  
scream, but her breath caught in her throat and her feet felt glued to the driveway.   
  
Whatever it was continued slowly out of its private abyss, and now Tara could see   
  
what it was.   
  
  
The Creature from the Black Lagoon.  
  
  
Now she found she could scream, and rather loudly as well. However, she   
  
could no longer hear Greta and Sally's nasal laughter, and now the Creature was   
  
almost completely onto the ground.  
  
  
For some reason, the Creature had always terrified her. Even though there   
  
was always the mild comfort zone that in the movies it was only a man in a rubber   
  
suit, she knew this was not. It was real. The scaly fins were dripping with slime and   
  
seaweed, and its chest heaved with each raspy breath it took. Its cold, slanted black   
  
eyes stared at her as it reached both fins out for her.  
  
  
Tara let out one last scream as she scrambled to the door and fumbled in her   
  
pocket for the key. Her parents were out at dinner, and her older brother, Mick, was   
  
most likely driving around town with his buddies. She finally found the key and tried   
  
to shove it into the lock, and could hear the Creature continuing its way towards her.   
  
With a frightened gasp, she dropped the key into the bush next to her. Oh, shit! her   
  
mind screamed. You've done it now, it's gonna come and get you now, it'll tear you   
  
limb from limb--  
  
  
She bent over, frantically raking her fingers through the bush, getting splinters   
  
all over her hands and fingers, and tiny droplets of blood began to ooze out of the   
  
cuts. She winced painfully, and made another mad grab for the key; Her closed fist   
  
came up with broken branches and leaves. Tara turned around again, ready for the   
  
Creature to finally kill her... But the Creature was gone.  
  
  
Instead, standing there, was a clown in a silvery suit with orange pom-poms   
  
going up the front that matched its big floppy shoes. It had two tufts of red hair on   
  
either side of its head, big blue eyes, and a large painted smile. In one white-gloved   
  
hand it held a bunch of balloons; the other beckoned to her tauntingly.  
  
  
"Well, hello there, Tara!" the clown cried. "Fancy meeting you here!" It   
  
grinned. "Would you like a balloon? I've got yellow, and red, and green, and blue...   
  
They all float!"  
  
  
  
  
  
6:45; The next day.  
  
  
"Okay, fellas, pay up!" Richie Tozier announced, grinning broadly.  
  
  
A group of six teenage boys was crowded around a booth at Tony's, a   
  
diner/soda shop that was popular with most of the youth in the town of Derry, not   
  
too different from the place Beverly Marsh's mother worked at.  
  
  
Eddie Kaspbrak groaned as he pulled out a ten dollar bill from his pocket. "You   
  
guys, Ma would kill me if she knew I was gambling..."  
  
  
Richie grinned widely, stretching out his lanky body. "Aw, come on, Eds! What   
  
Mommy doesn't know won't hurt her!"  
  
  
Sixteen-year-old Eddie frowned, his eyes flashing. "I told you not to call me   
  
that!"   
  
  
Mike Hanlon sighed as he reached into his jacket and retrieved the money as   
  
well. "You oughta work in Vegas someday, Rich."  
  
  
"Yeah, th-then you'll have the opportunity to rip m-m-millions of people off!"   
  
Bill Denbrough declared, slapping down his money on the table in front of him.  
  
  
Ben Hanscom watched his friends argue, a contented smile on his face. He   
  
was still a bit chubby, but was considerably losing weight, thanks to joining the track   
  
team to show up his classmates. He took a bite of hamburger while rolling his eyes.  
  
  
"Oy, I'm just glad I'm the only one smart enough not to play against Richie,"   
  
Stan Uris replied, shaking his head.  
  
  
"Why, because you know you'd lose?" Richie smirked.  
  
  
"Nah, because you'd cheat," Stan returned smugly.  
  
  
Richie made an over-exaggerated face of hurt, which resulted in all six boys   
  
laughing hysterically.  
  
  
A soft jingling chime from the doorway signaled that another customer had   
  
entered the diner. All six boys looked up to see Beverly Marsh standing in the   
  
entrance, looking as beautiful as ever. Her long, fiery auburn hair was pulled half-back   
  
with a violet ribbon, and her bright eyes sparkled.  
  
  
"Bev," Ben breathed, unaware that he was staring.  
  
  
"My boys!" Beverly shouted in a mock-maternal tone. She laughed as Richie   
  
made a showy gesture of scooping her up into his arms, and kissed him gently on the   
  
nose. Richie's cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red to match his hair, and let go of   
  
her.  
  
  
A loud 'ahem!'ing noise floated over from the direction of the counter, where   
  
Mr.Tony Harrison, the owner of Tony's, was standing. He shook his head, with a very   
  
clear look on his face which read 'damn kids'.  
  
  
The teenagers snickered loudly in unison for a moment, before they finally   
  
went back to greeting each other.  
  
  
"Ah, gambling a bit, are we?" Beverly teased as she slid into a seat.  
  
  
"Not me," Stan announced quickly.  
  
  
"Of course not, Stanny," Beverly laughed.   
  
  
A short, smiling waitress walked over to their booth, notepad in hand. "Is there   
  
anything I can get you, miss?"  
  
  
"I'll have a vanilla milkshake, please."  
  
  
"And can I have a refill on my Coke?" Richie piped up.  
  
  
The waitress nodded, scribbled down their orders, and walked off elsewhere.  
  
  
"I guess I'm gonna stop playing now, too--" Eddie began, before suddenly   
  
trailing off, and slumping down dejectedly in his seat.  
  
  
"Eh-Eh-Eddie, w-what is it?" Bill asked concernedly.  
  
  
Eddie shook his head, and clamped his hands over his face. "Henry Bowers and   
  
his cronies," he mumbled.   
  
  
Mike turned around to see, and sighed. "Perfect."  
  
  
Sure enough, Henry Bowers, Belch Huggins, Victor Criss, Patrick Hockstetter,   
  
and a few other boys were standing at the counter, smoking and snickering over   
  
something. One of them looked up to see the gang, and nudged to his friends,   
  
identical sneers coming to their faces.  
  
  
"Hey, uh... Losers! What's up?" Henry grinned as he sidled over.  
  
  
"Heh, heh, losers," one of the punks snickered.  
  
  
"Get lost, Bowers!" Bill snapped, feeling his temper rise.   
  
  
Henry merely snorted at this, and moved closer to the table, inspecting the   
  
group closely, as if they were in a criminal line-up.   
  
  
"So, what've we here? Let's see, there's Wussy, Fatboy--" Ben scowled at this   
  
now inaccurate nickname "--Four Eyes, Jew, Stuttering Freak, Teacher's Pet, and--"   
  
He stopped when he came to Beverly, and almost smiled.  
  
  
"And The Bitch," she interrupted, boredly, "Yes, you'd think we'd catch on by   
  
now." She flipped her hair over one shoulder and turned her attention to her hands.  
  
  
Henry's smirk faltered for a moment, then regained its original composure, and   
  
he rather unsubtly leered closer to her. Beverly raised her cool green-gray eyes in a   
  
questioning stare, but this only made him feel more erotic. Stan Uris cleared his throat   
  
loudly, breaking the trance, and Henry turned to growl at him.  
  
  
"Don't you have your little girlfriend to tend to?" Stan asked innocently,   
  
ignoring the daggers being shot at him. "Er... Sally, I believe her name is?"  
  
  
Henry started to snicker, as if in a 'yeah, right' response, until he realized the   
  
younger boy was right. He jerked his head in a quick signal to his pals to show that   
  
they should leave, and they shiftily followed behind him, not until Belch greedily stole   
  
some of Eddie's french fries. He watched them go, arms crossed. "Hmmph!"  
  
  
"Yeah, that pretty much sums me up, too," Beverly commented, before turning   
  
hopefully to Richie. "Cigarette?" A Marlboro was tossed in front of her on top of the   
  
table, and she quickly lit up. "Thanks."  
  
  
Things were silent for a moment. The waitress walked over, set down the   
  
milkshake and Coke, and was off. The only sounds for a while were Ben thoughtfully   
  
munching on his hamburger, Mike shuffling his cards redundantly, and Richie slurping   
  
his Coke quite loudly. After a few minutes of this, Eddie snapped his head up and   
  
glared. "Would you stop that, Richie?!"  
  
  
Taken aback, Richie grimaced and pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of   
  
his nose. "Sheesh, Eds. Getting antsy?" he returned with a frown, but eventually   
  
obliged and resorted to short, quiet sips.  
  
  
Bill warily let his gaze settle on each of his friends before breaking the tense   
  
silence. "Yuh-Yuh-You g-guys," he started, then shook his head and began again. "C-  
  
Can I t-t-tell you suh-something?"  
  
  
Ben shrugged. "Sure, Bill. Go ahead."  
  
  
Bill tilted his head up. "A-All right. I'm nuh-nuh-not r-really sh-sure---"  
  
  
"We're closing, it's time to go!" Tony's rough voice interrupted him. Mike   
  
turned, surprised.  
  
  
"But, Mr.Harrison, it's only 6:54," he cried, pointing to the clock on the wall.  
  
  
Tony sighed exasperatedly, and closed his eyes briefly. "There's a new curfew   
  
in town, kids. After what happened to that Robinson girl.." He shuddered, and then   
  
looked at the group again. "Well, get out! I don't have all day, you know!"  
  
  
  
  
  
"What's he got up his ass?" Richie exclaimed once they were walking together   
  
outside.   
  
  
Ignoring Richie, Stan turned to Bill. "What was it that you were gonna tell us in   
  
there?" Bill shifted uncomfortably to his other foot.  
  
  
"Nuh-Nothing."   
  
  
"Bull," Richie declared, before finally turning up the road. "Well, kids, this is   
  
where I get off. See you all tomorrow, right?"  
  
  
They nodded and Richie waved cheerfully before heading up to his house.   
  
Next, Mike stopped and began his way along. "Muh-Mike," Bill started, "Y-You live f-f-  
  
further away than this."  
  
  
"I know," Mike shrugged, "But it would be out of the way for you guys to follow   
  
me all around."  
  
  
Ben didn't seem convinced. "Are you sure?"  
  
  
Mike laughed and said yes, then bid them farewell. Soon, Bill was off, then   
  
Ben. Stan and Beverly uncertainly looked at Eddie as he made his way up the sidewalk   
  
to his house.  
  
  
"Eddie," Bev said softly, "Won't your mother be mad that you were... Um, out   
  
with us?"  
  
  
Sonia Kaspbrak, Eddie's mother, was quite a large woman with even larger   
  
standards. She didn't approve of any of Eddie's friends for one reason or another...   
  
Bill, because he stuttered; Ben, even though he was losing weight; Mike, because he   
  
was black; Richie, because, well, he was Richie ("I've heard the language he uses,"   
  
Sonia had scolded him one day, "And I don't want you picking up that filth!"); Stan,   
  
because he was Jewish; and Beverly, because of her looks (She was certain that any   
  
girl who was that pretty and hung out with boys all the time surely took advantage of   
  
their benefit.).  
  
  
Eddie laughed dryly and turned to face them, running one hand nervously   
  
through his dishwater blonde hair. "Y'know, guys, I really don't care anymore... She   
  
doesn't want me to drive, I can't go to football games let alone participate in gym, I'm   
  
not even allowed to get a dog because she thinks it'll screw with my asthma..." He   
  
looked about to cry, and immediately shoved his aspirator into his mouth, pushing   
  
down on it. Stan hesitated, then patted him on the back.  
  
  
"Gee, Eddie," Beverly said doubtfully, "I'm really sorry, but we try to get you   
  
out as much as possible... I'm sure Bill'll let you drive around in his car once he gets   
  
his license, and Mike's been sneaking you into his football games..." Mike Hanlon went   
  
to a different school than the other six teenagers, so Sonia wouldn't know which  
  
days they had games.  
  
  
Eddie shrugged and mumbled something, flushing dark scarlet. Stan raised an   
  
eyebrow. Eddie's cheeks burned even more as he mumbled again. Stan grinned as he   
  
turned to face Beverly. "He said he's not allowed to have a girlf-"  
  
  
He was cut off as Eddie furiously dove at him, and the two wrestled playfully   
  
on the grass near the sidewalk for a moment. Beverly watched, half amused and half   
  
annoyed. Suddenly her head snapped up in worry as she heard a door creak slowly   
  
open. "Eddie, I think your Mom's coming out..."  
  
  
Both boys immediately jumped to their feet, and Eddie hurriedly brushed   
  
himself off. He flashed his two friends a sad smile before running over to his mother   
  
before she could come to him. "Ma, hi! I was just coming back from getting ice   
  
cream... Alone..." The conversation faded from their earshot when Eddie and his   
  
mother went back inside. Stan and Beverly continued quietly down the street for a   
  
while longer.  
  
  
"Thank you."  
  
  
Stan stopped, surprised, and turned to look at her. "F-For what?"  
  
  
"For getting rid of Henry... In a non-violent way," she added as an   
  
afterthought, thinking of all the lame fistfights Richie had attempted to start with   
  
the older and much bigger boy, and nearly laughed.  
  
  
He turned pink and shrugged. "Sure. Whatever. It's just that the guy's not,   
  
y'know, kosher. And.. And he's so indecorous--"  
  
  
"I know you meant to say dirty asshole," Beverly interrupted, and then they   
  
both started laughing. She tripped on a crack in the sidewalk from laughing too hard,   
  
and lightly grabbed his shoulder to keep her balance for a moment before letting go.   
  
In that time, Stan deeply inhaled the scent of her hair; roses and cinnamon. He hated   
  
living in this town, if it weren't for the fact that he had such a great group of   
  
friends to support him. And, watching Beverly, her copper and blonde highlights   
  
reflecting from the streetlamps, he felt something for her he never had before. Well,   
  
sure, he always noticed she was pretty.   
  
  
Of course, everyone saw the way Ben would look at her, and he also saw the  
  
way Bill would just stop and admire her subtle grace. Richie was always trying to flirt   
  
with her in his own obnoxious way, and when Eddie had gotten over his stupid Greta   
  
Bowie phase... He remembered the one time the gang had gone swimming over in   
  
the Derry public swimming pool. Beverly went off to change into her new bathing suit,   
  
a cute little yellow bikini, and all of their jaws had dropped when she came back.   
  
Eddie's reaction was even worse than Ben's; he had to use his aspirator when he got   
  
a glimpse of her, and Stan was positive it didn't have anything to do with asthma.   
  
Hell, even Henry Bowers liked her...  
  
  
  
"Stan? Stanny?" He was shaken from his thoughts as he turned to face her   
  
again, her beautiful green eyes looking at him with concern. "You okay?" She reached   
  
over one slender arm and lightly touched his shoulder. He felt the hairs on the back of   
  
his neck stiffen at her touch, as well as a funny stirring in his stomach area.  
  
  
"Uh, y-y-yeah," he stammered, turning red. Real smooth, Romeo. You're   
  
acting just like Stuttering Bill!  
  
  
"Well, this is my street. See you tomorrow, right?" Beverly said after they  
  
walked in silence for a few minutes more.  
  
  
"Yeah, okay," Stan answered, shifting his eyes to the pavement. Why does   
  
she have to be so damn sexy?! I'm supposed to be the prude, the man of   
  
"straightness", the gentleman, the intelligent one.... And yet, all rational thoughts   
  
fled from his mind when he looked at her.  
  
  
That is what happened now. Unexpectedly, she leaned over and gently  
  
embraced him. His heart started pounding so loudly in his chest he was sure she could   
  
hear it, or at least feel it. She let go shortly and smiled softly. "Bye, Stan."  
  
  
When she turned up onto the road to her apartment, he wanted to go after   
  
her, wanted to walk her home. But he knew what her father would do if he found out   
  
his daughter was hanging around a group of teenage boys, five out of six whom   
  
lusted after her, nonetheless- It wouldn't be very pretty. So, instead, he shoved both   
  
hands into the pockets of his neatly creased pants, started to whistle Paul Anka's   
  
"Lonely Boy" quietly to himself, and turned on his heel to go home.  
  
  
  
  
Stan paused to look into the bathroom mirror when he arrived at his house. He   
  
wasn't bad looking... His dark brown hair was neatly combed and perfectly matched   
  
his dark complexion. The light blue sweater he had been wearing with the 'D' for Derry   
  
High School on the left chest was tied around his neck, over his freshly pressed white   
  
shirt. A stylish black belt was looped between his khaki-colored creased pants... Nah,   
  
not bad at all. You is lookin' awful han'som, massa! Richie would say in his Pickaninny   
  
voice, laughing at him. He grinned sheepishly at his reflection before going to his room   
  
and start changing for bed.  
  
  
  
  
She smiled at him seductively before leaning back on the bed invitingly, her  
  
eyes shining playfully.   
  
  
He had never felt so nervous before in all his life. He was usually so cool,   
  
calm, collected... But not now. Hell, didn't she see what she was doing to him? One   
  
sweaty, slick hand fumbled with his shirt buttons as he stumbled over to her form.  
  
Her long, shiny auburn waves cascaded over her shoulders, glinting prettily in the   
  
glow of moonlight. Her peach lips curled up into a smirk at his uneasiness.  
  
  
He gulped audibly and made his way towards her. He stalled for a moment   
  
when he was standing right next to her, panting heavily. She raised an eyebrow in   
  
amusement.  
  
  
"It's all right, Stan," she whispered sultrily, "I know you want me."  
  
  
Before he knew it, he had thrust himself on top of her and was hungrily   
  
kissing her all over her body, while she laughed and stroked her fingers through his   
  
hair, and then began to massage his back. He moaned in pleasure, and rolled over   
  
onto his belly. "I love you," he murmured.  
  
  
She merely smiled in response and began to gently lick his earlobe, making   
  
him shiver in pleasure. She then proceeded to kiss his neck as well, which only   
  
resulted in his increasing hardness. He buried his face in her lovely hair, hoping this   
  
moment would never end. "Beverly," he moaned, holding her closer, never wanting   
  
to let go. "Oh, Beverly, you'll never know how much I--" He stopped when he real-  
  
ized he wasn't embracing the object of his affection's slim naked body anymore, but   
  
rather, something much larger and....   
  
  
Stan screamed and jumped off the bed when the clown materialized, smirking   
  
at him, arms crossed, make-up smeared. "And we never thought you could be so   
  
dirty, Stanley-boy," it taunted, eyes flashing. "All that time, wanting to get into the   
  
poor girl's pants-- What would your mother think? More importantly, what would...   
  
She think?"  
  
  
Despite being scared to death, Stan felt an involuntary blush rise to his   
  
cheeks at the thought that if Beverly knew--- Wait, well, she couldn't know! This   
  
isn't even happening, it's a nightmare, a delusion, yes, that's it, I'm going   
  
delusional---  
  
  
"Oh, don't get all stuffy and serious with me," the clown said with a mock   
  
pout, then started to chuckle darkly. "Sooner or later, even you'll float. We all float   
  
down here..."  
  
  
  
  
Stan sat up straight in bed, sweating profusely. He glanced over at his alarm   
  
clock- 12:21 AM. Oh, God, what a nightmare... What had started out as a teenage   
  
boy's hormonal fantasy had slowly turned into the most terrifying thing he had ever   
  
experienced; well, dreamed, to be exact. He groaned as he turned over and buried his   
  
face into his pillow, completely missing the orange pom-pom that lay at the foot of his   
  
bed.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(Well, how's that for a first chapter? Crappy? Horrible? Wonderful? Fantastic? Eh, you   
decide. Yeesh, getting killed in your own driveway- How's *that* for irony? Just please review or flame or whatever and lemme know what you think! BTW, what's with IT fanfic getting so popular all of a sudden? I know I've been planning to write this out for quite some time now, I think I even posted about it here, too, so this is really weirding me out. It's kinda freaky, but still cool, I think. Oh well.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
